


you were amazing.

by tolvsmol



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, all the foxes are prsent, have fun reading and leave a coment thanks, idk how to use tags here lmao, this is essentially a retelling of the baltimore scene from andrews pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:24:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolvsmol/pseuds/tolvsmol
Summary: “Thank you. You were amazing.”Why was there such finality in those words? Like he was thanking Andrew for more than the game? Andrew knows every breath Neil took was at least half a lie, concealed hints of the truth laced with every other word. So why did this sound like the most honest thing he’d ever said?





	

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @audreil, leave a kudos and a comment!

“Thank you. You were amazing.”

The words echo in Andrew’s head as soon as they leave Neil’s mouth. He doesn’t say anything else, but Andrew can tell there’s something more he’s itching to get out. There’s something in his eyes, something in the way they flicker from the rest of the foxes to Andrew, that stops Andrew from pressing for more. This isn’t the place, not right now. Maybe on the bus. They have all the time in the world for answers. And Neil promised Andrew _anything_ for shutting down the goal.

As they’re shepherded out and towards the bus, the chaos that surrounds the team jostles Andrew and he blindly follows the orange uniforms. He can’t look out for the others, for Neil, and he spares a moment to hope that they’re capable enough to survive one rowdy crowd. As long as Kevin makes it to the bus, it’ll be okay. Andrew isn’t responsible for anyone else’s safety. Neil isn’t under his protection anymore.  

_“Thank you. You were amazing.”_

Why was there such finality in those words? Like he was thanking Andrew for more than the game? Andrew knows every breath Neil took was at least half a lie, concealed hints of the truth laced with every other word. So why did this sound like the most honest thing he’d ever said?

Once safely on the bus, Andrew glances around at his team. Most of them are present, but Neil is not. Of course not. He always did enjoy making Andrew’s life more difficult. Andrew sits in his seat, finding it increasingly difficult to stay still with each passing minutes. _He’s fine,_ he tells himself. He wouldn’t be Neil Josten if he didn’t create a scene, even at a time like this. Perhaps especially at a time like this. So Andrew sits on his hands, almost shaking from the effort to keep still. Another glance around the bus tells him all the rest of the foxes are safe. Or, safe as they can be. They’ve got blood oozing from here and there, bruises sure to bloom soon. But Neil isn’t here.

When he can’t handle it any longer, Andrew stands up from his spot and exits the bus after spitting a “Stay put,” at Kevin.  Then he says to Wymack, “Neil isn’t here.”

“What did you expect?” Wymack sounds the same as always, but Andrew can read the tension radiating from him.

 _More,_ he wants to say. That’s the word at the tip of his tongue. _More_ is what he wanted from Neil, but he doesn’t know how he got to this point.

Then Andrew sees the bag – Neil’s bag – at Wymack’s feet. When he kneels down and rifles through it, ice washes over him and everything in his body goes cold. Everything is here. His clothes, his gear, his cellphone. Despite everything Neil said and did to make apparent how little he cares for the phone, he wouldn’t leave it now. He wouldn’t leave this bag. Not if he went willingly, wherever he went.

“I’m going to look for him,” Andrew says. Whatever Wymack hears in Andrew’s voice stops him from arguing. Andrews circles the stadium, eyes peeled for that flaming auburn hair, that defiant stance. He can’t have just _left_. The last text on his phone – the “0” – from an unknown number flashes behind Andrew’s eyes, cold panic hitting him once again.

_“Thank you. You were amazing.”_

If Neil isn’t here, he knew. He knew something – someone – was coming to take him, and he didn’t tell Andrew a damn thing. Not a name, not a place, not a time. But he had the audacity to say _thank you_.

 _“I need you to let me go,”_ he’d said to Andrew. Did he know then that this would happen? Did he know that in just a matter of hours he would be gone?

 _“Don’t come crying to me when someone breaks your face,”_ Andrew had told him. Andrew sure as fuck didn’t know then that this would happen. He didn’t know that in just a matter of hours, Neil would disappear without so much as a goodbye and leave behind everything he kept so close him.

He did say goodbye, a part of Andrew whispers. He said goodbye in that loaded thank you. He couldn’t say the words then, in front of everyone, but that was as much a goodbye as he could afford at the moment. When he’s searched the stadium three times, Andrew can barely contain the urge to break apart every inch of it. He makes his way back to the bus alone, finding Wymack still standing outside. “He’s gone.”

A disbelieving shake of the head. “Hell of a time he chooses to leave.”

“He didn’t _leave,_ ” Andrew corrects. “He’s gone.”

Andrew could burn down the stadium, burn the whole fucking city, but it wouldn’t bring back Neil, not unless he wanted to be back. Andrew knows that if it were up to Neil, if he were at all able to come back, he would crawl the entire way back if he had to. So for now, Andrew can wait. He can wait for Neil to return because he isn’t in this place. And if someone took him, he’s already too far for Andrew to do anything right now.

He looks at Renee, violence and murder settling a deadly calm over him. She’s bleeding, a black eye already forming, her knuckles split. Andrew hopes whoever crossed her is lying dead somewhere. She’s no good to him right now. He needs to hit something, anything, to let out the rage that’s blurring his vision. But for now, he needs to keep his calm. He’ll need that later, when he finds Neil – or the ones who took him. 

Because he _will_ find one or the other. Somehow Neil came into Andrew’s life and made a whirlwind of it all. The more Andrew tried to push him away, the more they got tangled together. The more Andrew believed him to be a distraction, a pipedream, the more real he became. Andrew told himself he was nothing, knowing deep down somewhere in his core that he is everything. He is the one who understands Andrew. He is the one who gave himself to Andrew and didn’t expect anything real in return. He is the one who would go back for Andrew when no one else would.

Andrew knows now he would go anywhere for Neil. He would go to hell and back if he had to, because what’s a little more fire for someone who has already burned out? Without either of them realizing it, Neil somehow managed to be the spark that kept Andrew from drowning in darkness. Now, if someone takes that from Andrew, if someone takes _Neil_ from Andrew, that darkness will consume them all.

Neil returns in the shape of a phone call; one minute Wymack is on the phone and the next he’s flooring the bus without a word to anyone. The foxes worried exchange glances and a second later Dan asks, “Where are we going?”

“Baltimore,” is Wymack’s response.

The name doesn’t ring a bell with anyone, except for Kevin, who sucks in a shaky breath, his skin having gone a sickly pale. Before Andrew registers what he’s doing, his hands are wrapped around Kevin’s throat, constricting his airway enough to cause serious discomfort but not suffocate entirely. There will be bruises, he knows, and he doesn’t care. He knows something about Neil’s whereabouts but didn’t tell anyone. First Neil made him let go of his promise, now Kevin made him go back on his word. Andrew hopes the bruises last for weeks.

He can feel someone hovering over him, but he knows they won’t dare touch him. Not if they wish to get off this bus alive in one piece. “What’s in Baltimore, Kevin?”

Kevin tries to swallow and chokes out, “Neil’s father,” which makes Andrew pause for a heartbeat. So, Neil isn’t an orphan, then. How interesting. But that’s for later to mull over. Andrew squeezes Kevin’s throat in a silent demand. “He’s not Neil; his name is Nathaniel Wesninski and his father works for the Moriyamas. They call him the Butcher of Baltimore. Neil – Nathaniel – played little league with me when he was, like, eight, and then disappeared. I didn’t recognize him again until Riko mentioned the Butcher at the banquet. Neil didn’t think he’d last the year.” Maybe he would’ve said more, but Andrew’s hands constrict tighter and Kevin shuts up. There’s nothing else he needs to hear from Kevin at the moment.

“Coach,” he says. “What’s in Baltimore? Neil or his body?”

A couple of the foxes mutter something behind him, but Andrew can’t find it in himself to give a single shit about what they think of him or of this situation. “He’s alive,” Wymack says, disdain coloring his voice, though Andrew doesn’t know who it’s directed towards. He doesn’t care. “They won’t say anything, just that he’s alive and under watch. No mention of where he is.”

“Let’s fix that,” Andrew returns. He finally looks away from Kevin’s terrified gaze and settles back in his seat.

* * *

 

Andrew’s self-control fails to keep his anger in check when he hears the words “we can’t share the details of an ongoing investigation.” He is not a fan of authority figures to begin with, and when these officers start spewing bullshit about regulations while Neil is somewhere in this city, Andrew’s vision flares red. He lets his rage fly, hands hitting and punching without seeing. He ends up with an elbow to the eye and blurred vision, a handful of people restraining him before they manage to snap a handcuff on his and Wymack’s wrists. He could easily snap their necks in two and ruin the entire city, but it won’t do them much good right now.

At the very least, Wymack has gotten the names of the agents on the case. Browning and Kurt. Andrew lets Wymack do the talking. He knows if he tries, he will end up killing someone. They agree to let them see Neil in a hotel room to avoid the gathering press. Wymack drags Andrew with him to book a roof and Andrew doesn’t miss the way they look at the pair – a middle aged man handcuffed to someone half his age and size. They barely make it to the room when one of the agents, Kurt, asks them to move the bus. “It’s just a tad conspicuous, don’t you think.”

When they return, Andrew’s heart skips a beat at the SUV parked around the corner. Now Andrew’s the one dragging Wymack behind him, who doesn’t complain. Someone at the door tries to push Andrew back and keep him out of the room, but Andrew hurtles forward. There is nothing that can stop Andrew right now. “Where’s And –” he hears and Andrew has barely stumbled into the room when the voice cuts off.

The ice cold relief that washes over him in an instant is almost enough to bring Andrew to his knees and it’s probably the handcuff tying him to Wymack that keeps him standing. The room fades away to nothing but Neil, who’d grabbed an agent close to him to stop him from pulling out his gun. And now Neil is curled in on himself, hands shielded from view.

“Don’t,” is the only word he can ground out and it’s enough to set Andrew in motion. He clutches the back of Neil’s neck and forces him to his knees when Neil tries to stand straight. Holding Neil is sobering, the weight of a realization almost crushing – Andrew cannot lose Neil again, not yet, not soon, not ever. Andrew is owed an explanation and he will get it, but even after that, he is not letting Neil Josten out of his sight.

“Leave it,” Andrew hears from Wymack. Doesn’t matter. Nothing does.  Andrew kneels in front of Neil and watches him turn his hands over before meeting Andrew’s gaze.

He knows Neil’s eyes are roaming over his face, picking out bruises lining it and Andrew wonders for a moment just how severe the damage is. Doesn’t matter right now, though. “They could have blinded you. All that time fighting and you never learned to duck?”

Andrew doesn’t answer and takes his time studying the face he thought he knew oh so well. Right now, though, he isn’t sure he does. He doesn’t know if he’s looking at Neil or Nathaniel. He doesn’t know where to focus. Doesn’t know where to fucking begin. Doesn’t know how to calm the painful hammering of his heart. The hands are bandaged well, which doesn’t mean anything good. If anything, it means what’s covered is horrible. So Andrew starts with the face. He runs a finger down along the tape binding the bandages together – the bandages holding his fucking face together. He pulls at the gauze on Neil’s right cheek and sees stiches. Unsurprising, he thinks. What would the Butcher and his people use if not knives?

When Andrew pulls at the gauze on the other cheek, Neil visibly reacts more and Andrew immediately knows why. The skin under the gauze is charred – as in burned. Melted. Andrew’s heart falters, but he keeps his hands steady. _Not here,_ he tells himself. _You cannot be weak here._ He sets the bandages down on the skin.

“Christ, Neil,” Andrew hears from behind him. There’s movement, but Andrew cannot afford to look away from Neil. Not yet. Not ever again. “Don’t,” Wymack says, this time in a tone that leaves no room for argument. There’s more talk, but Andrew forces himself to make it all white noise. None of it matters.

Andrew places two fingers under Neil’s chin and tilts his head to look at the burns more carefully. It takes him only a second to realize the motivation behind the burns because there isn’t any hint of Riko’s tattoo anymore, no matter how hard Andrew searches. There’s relief at that, but the sight of the marred skin brings back the primal part of Andrew to fight the helpless feeling. He drops his hand from Neil’s face and clenches it in Neil’s hoodie – as though if he holds on just tight enough, Neil won’t disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Neil says, and Andrew barely registers the arm that pulls back and the fist that curls. The undiluted rage rushing through his veins is almost impossible to tame, and Andrew can feel himself tremble with the effort it takes to not leave another imprint on Neil’s face. With almost inhuman effort, Andrew forces his hand to go limp and fall as far as the handcuffs will allow.

“Say it again and I will kill you.”

One of the agent says, “This is the last time I’m going to say it to you. If you can’t stow that attitude and behave –” Andrew doesn’t look up, but vaguely remembers attempting to hit him earlier. He doesn’t know if any of his hits landed or caused any damaged; he hopes to hell they did.

Neil breaks eye contact with Andrew just long enough to glare at the man. “You’ll what, asshole?” The words tug at Andrew; at least that hasn’t changed.

“The same goes for you, Nathaniel.” That’s someone else. Andrew wonders how many of them there are and barely manages to stay put at the name he hears. “That’s your third strike. A third misstep and this is over. Remember you are only here because we are allowing it.”

Andrew snaps. The name and the threats – Andrew starts to move, but then Neil is there, just an inch away, framing Andrew’s face between his broken hands. Andrew understands the silent command and stays where he is. For now. Neil responds to his compliance by throwing a cold glower somewhere over Andrew’s shoulder. “Don’t lie to a liar. We both know I’m here because you have nothing without me. A pile of dead bodies can’t close cases or play the money trail with you. I told you what those answers would cost you and you agreed to pay it, so take this handcuff off of Andrew, get your man out of our way, and stop using up my twenty minutes with your useless posturing.”

 _Twenty minutes._ They get twenty minutes for Neil to explain this disaster? It’s not enough, nowhere near enough, for a proper explanation and Andrew wants to argue against it, but he won’t fight the clock right now. He’s not letting Neil out of his sight again until he has the answers he wants.  

After a minute, he hears a key click in place and the handcuff is removed. Andrew flexes his fingers, but he doesn’t move his eyes from Neil. This is their time and Andrew can’t shake off the feeling that Neil will leave again, but he can’t let that happen. “So the attitude problem wasn’t an act, at least,” Andrew says. It was the only gesture from Neil that brought back a sense of safety, of comfort. Maybe Neil isn’t lost completely.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying. I would have told you last night, but they were in our locker room.”

 _They._ _Interesting._ “They who?” One of the agent echoes Andrew’s thoughts.

Andrew isn’t the least bit surprised when Neil immediately switches to German, though a small part of him wishes he could see the agents’ faces. “Those weren’t security guards that came for us. They were there for me, and they would have hurt all of you to get me out of there. I thought by keeping my mouth shut I could keep you safe.” His hands are still lingering by Andrew’s face, and he uses one thumb to gently tap under Andrew’s eye. “I didn’t know they’d staged a riot.”

This isn’t what Andrew expected, but he takes the words in stride. They’re not surprising coming from Neil. “What did I tell you about playing the martyr card?”

“You said no one wanted it. You didn’t tell me to stop.”

“It was implied.”

“I’m stupid, remember? I need things spelled out.”

Going back to this back and forth nonsense, this _easy_ conversation after everything they’ve been through in a matter of hours makes Andrew almost want to throw up. “Shut up.”

“Am I at ninety-four yet?” Neil’s eyes are clear, intense, and the relief in them is almost palpable that Andrew isn’t shoving him away.

“You are at one hundred. What happened to your face?” He can’t avoid it forever.

Neil looks like he’s suddenly nauseous. “A dashboard lighter.”

Despite Neil’s shakiness, it’s Nicky behind him who looks like he’s gagging. Aaron rolls off the bed to go stand by Nicky, and for once he actually looks upset rather than angry. Neil turns at the sound and the rest of the team finally sees the mess that is his face. Kevin slams back into the wall, his face going up to cover his own face. The sight of him doesn’t make Andrew any less angry.  

Dan knuckles turn white with the effort to hold Matt in place. He struggles against her hold for a moment before settling for a hoarse, “Jesus, Neil. The fuck did they do to you?”

Abby starts to move around one of the beds, almost frantically, but Andrew cannot allow anyone take Neil from him now. He grabs Neil to turn his attention back, then glares at Abby with all the leftover hate and aggression he hasn’t yet had a chance to pummel someone’s face with. She stops immediately. “Get away from us.”

“Andrew,” She says. Quietly. Carefully. “He’s hurt. Let me see him.”

“If you make me repeat myself you will not live to regret it.” Andrew knows there’s a promise of murder in his voice and is only mildly amazed at the fact that Neil seems to relax under his hands. Neil cautiously tugs at Andrew’s hair, the only one not scared of the pain Andrew is promising. Andrew hopes Neil knows that the hands that will destroy everyone in this room if they tried to interfere will never hurt Neil. Not seriously. Not even if he wanted to. Not ever. Neil will never be hurt again if Andrew has his way.

He still resists Neil’s pull, once, twice, making sure Abby and everyone else understands the threat and the promise, before returning his attention to Neil. Neil hasn’t moved since Andrew redirected his attention, and he only speaks now that Andrew is safely looking back. “Abby, I just got out of the hospital. I’m as good as I can be right now.”

“Neil,” she still tries to persist. Why wouldn’t she?

“Please,” Neil’s breath is warm on Andrew’s face. Andrew watches Abby take a step back in his periphery and relaxes his grip on Neil. Neil lowers one of his hands from Andrew’s hair, trusting him not to leap at the next person stupid enough to move. Still in German, he asks, “Did they tell you who I am?”

“They didn’t have to. I choked the answers out of Kevin,” Neil looks surprised, and Andrew doesn’t know why. The bruises on Kevin’s neck can’t be from anyone but Andrew. “Guess you weren’t an orphan after all. Where is your father now?”

“My uncle executed him,” Neil presses two fingers from his free hand over Andrew’s heart, so Andrew can feel it from his head to his chest when a shudder runs through Neil’s body. “I spent my whole life wishing he would die, but I thought he never would. I thought he was invincible. I can’t believe it was that easy.” He sounds awestruck, like he’s witnessed a miracle rather than a life taken in coldblooded murder. But perhaps that’s the more normal response from someone like him. He was raised on murder.

“Was it easy? Kevin told us who he worked for.” And no one needed to spell out for anyone who Neil had been through to get back here. It was all evident on his broken body, barely held together.

“My uncle said he was going to try and negotiate a ceasefire. I don’t know if he’s strong enough to bargain with them, but I’d like to think he wouldn’t have risked it without real ground to stand on Promise me no one’s told the FBI about them.” He sounds hopeful, as though maybe things might actually go right for once.

“No one’s said a word to them since they said we couldn’t see you.”

Neil makes a choking sound that Andrew supposes was supposed to be a word. He clears his throat before trying again, “But why? I’ve done nothing but lie to them. I willingly put them all in danger so I could play a little longer. They got hurt last night because of me. Why would they protect me now?”

Neil always was oblivious about his importance to the foxes, about his value to them as a person and as a friend. It’s no wonder that hasn’t changed. “You are a fox.”

Neil’s eyes drop from Andrew’s for the first time, and he runs a hand harshly along his jaw. His voice is barely recognisable, low and mangled, when he says, “Andrew, they want to take me away from here. They want to enroll me in the Witness Protection Program so my father’s people can’t find me. I don’t want –” There’s a brief pause, and Andrew barely hears what Neil says next over the rush of blood in his ears, “If you tell me to leave, I’ll go.”

Anger brutally twists Andrew’s fingers in the collar of Neil’s hoodie, but he still has enough restraint to tug just enough for Neil to feel. Neil, inexplicably, relaxes slightly under the pressure. Andrew speaks in English, a battle cry to rally the forces behind Neil, “You aren’t going anywhere. You’re staying with us. If they try to take you away they will lose.”

“Take you away. To where?” Dan. Andrew knew they’d understand.

Matt is next, the challenge and demand in his voice clear, “Are we talking about ‘away for some questioning’ or ‘away for good’?”

The agent isn’t fazed, which goes to show just how little he understands this band of heathens and how far they’ll go to protect one another. “Both.”

“You can’t have him,” Nicky’s voice cuts through almost before the agent is finished getting out that one word, loud and annoying as ever. It may be the only time Andrew has been thankful for his cousin. “He belongs with us.”

“When people find out he is still alive they will come for him,” The agent sounds almost bored, but Andrew know he’s irritated. “It is not safe for him here anymore, and it sure as hell isn’t safe for you. It is better for everyone if he disappears.”

 _No_ , Andrew thinks, and from the unimpressed looks on the foxes in front of him, the feeling is unanimous. As if on cue, Allison’s voice comes next. “What part of ‘go to hell’ do you need us to explain to you?”

Matt speaks again, equal parts reason and threat. “We’re all legal adults here. We’ve made our decision. Unless he wants to stay with you, you’d better bring Neil back to us when you’re done with all your questions.”

The agent’s annoyance finally gets the best of him when he says, “‘Neil’ isn’t a real person. It’s just a cover that let Nathaniel evade authorities. It’s past time to let him go.”

If Neil weren’t holding him in place, Andrew could tear the man to shreds Neil feels realer under Andrew’s fingertips than anything has in a long time. Andrew will be damned if he let go.

“Neil or Nathaniel or whoever. He’s ours, and we’re not letting him go. You want us to vote on it or something? Bet you it’ll be unanimous,” Nicky says.

“Coach Wymack, talk some sense into your team.”

Wymack has his battle face on (minus the war paint) when he turns. “Neil,” he says, and Neil looks up at him. Whatever he sees in Wymack makes him relax. “Talk to me. What do you want?”

Neil swallows hard, and his words are all raw, sharp phrases falling from his mouth. “I want- I know I shouldn’t stay, but I can’t- I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose any of you. I don’t want to be Nathaniel anymore. I want to be Neil for as long as I can.” Neil’s grip is almost painful in Andrew’s hair, but he welcomes it. It, too, feels real and Andrew will never grow tired of it.

“Good. I’d have a hell of a time fitting ‘Wesninski’ on a jersey,” Wymack says, clearly enjoying the anguish he’s causing the agents.

“I would like a word with you.” The agent says, no longer concerned with the eight foxes.

“About?”

“Your willingness to put your players in considerable danger, for one.”

This isn’t the first time someone has challenged Wymack’s judgment when it comes to the foxes, and the man is unflinching when he responds with, “Giving up on Neil now goes against everything we are. I’m game to argue with you about it for as long as it takes, but not if it means using up Neil’s allotted time. That’s not fair to any of them.”

There it is. The sickening reminder that they only have twenty minutes for this reunion. Andrew tugs Neil’s hoodie and reverts to German, “Get rid of them before I kill them.”

“They’re waiting for answers. They were never able to charge my father while he was alive. They’re hoping I know enough to start decimating his circle in his absence. I’m going to give them the truth, or as much of it as I can without telling them my father was acting on someone’s orders.” Neil’s words tumble, desperate, and his fingers still cling to Andrew. Perhaps Andrew would feel vulnerable clutching Neil the way he is, if it weren’t for Neil holding on as though for dear life. “Do you want to be there for it? It’s the story I should have given you months ago.”

Finally, something Andrew doesn’t have to think about. “I have to go. I don’t trust them to give you back,” With considerable effort, he releases Neil and stands up. Neil will still be there. Neil will still be beside him. For now and forever.

Neil gets up without help and looks over Andrew’s head at Wymack. In English, he says, “I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I didn’t.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Twenty minutes isn’t near long enough for this conversation. We can talk about it on the ride back to campus, right?”

“Yes,” Neil says, voice light with tangible relief. “I promise. I just have to talk to them first.”

“Then go,” Dan cuts in. When Neil looks at her, she continues, “But come back to us as soon as they’re done with you, okay? We’ll figure this out as a team.”

“As a family,” Nicky butts in, with a weak attempt at a smile.

Neil says, “Thank you.” He can barely get the words out.

Allison waves off his gratitude with a practiced wave that doesn’t match her grave expression. “No, thank you. You just closed three outstanding bets and made me five hundred bucks.” Neil glances at her, clearly surprised the Foxes cared enough to bet money on him. “I’d rather find out exactly why and when you two hooked up than think about this awfulness any longer, so let’s talk about that on the ride back instead.”

Aaron stares between Allison, Neil and Andrew, clearly waiting for one of them to deny Allison’s claim. When the three of them meet him with blank stares of their own, Aaron’s expression goes slack. Nicky then opens and closes his mouth without saying anything, eyes fixed on Neil.

Neil suddenly seems exhausted, and turns back to Andrew. “Ready?”

“Waiting on you.” As always, it seems.

“I didn’t invite him,” The agent cuts in, again, uninvited.

Wymack sounds like he’s a second away from laughing out loud when he says, “Trust me, you’ll fare a lot better if you take them both.”

The agent shoots a calculating look between Andrew and Neil, then seems to decide it’s not worth his time to argue, “We’re leaving now.”

Wymack moves out of the way, but talks as soon as Neil reaches the door. “We’ll wait for you, all right? As long as it takes, Neil.”

Neil nods, thankful, and steps out onto the balcony. He and Andrew follow the agent down the stairs and sit in the backseat of the SUV still waiting. The agent, very obviously sick of their lack of cooperation, slams the door shut before driving them away. The car is almost silent until the hotel has disappeared behind other buildings, when Neil turns to Andrew and speaks in German, “Can I really be Neil again?”

The words tug at Andrew’s heartstrings. “I told Neil to stay. Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father.” He has no desire to deal with Nathaniel any longer after today.

Neil looks out the window again before looking down at his palm and tracing a shape into it – a shape Andrew has no trouble recognizing. His heart stutters again in its rhythm at the sight of it, coupled with Neil’s quietly whispered, “Neil Abram Josten.”

Andrew vows to himself then, in that SUV, that he will never let go of Neil Josten.


End file.
